


Lā Ho'omaika'i Nā Kuki

by CowandCalf



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Coda 9.08, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Angst, Missing Scene, Pining, this is one big heap of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 18:04:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CowandCalf/pseuds/CowandCalf
Summary: Thanksgiving is around the corner and Steve has this flash of inspiration for Danny's gift. He plans to implement this perfect idea right away but it's way more complicated than Steve has assumed. He needs urgent help and there's just one person which comes into question to save him from complete failure. Other than that, Holidays always come with an overload of emotions.





	Lā Ho'omaika'i Nā Kuki

**Author's Note:**

> **Lā Ho'omaika'i** = Thanksgiving in Hawaiian  
>  **Nā Kuki** = cookies in Hawaiian 
> 
> This is the title 'Thanksgiving cookies' and I'm sure this isn't the correct translation but anyway :-)
> 
>  
> 
>  **A/N**  
>  These two goofy, adorable dorks keep talking in my head and even though I have a lot to write for my other WIP they won't shut up. They make me write sweet and tender one-shots.
> 
> A special thanks goes to [@ivycross](http://ivycross.tumblr.com/) who helped me to find this cute, wonderful nickname for Joanie. I've wanted Steve to call his niece with a special term of endearment. Thank you, dear friend.
> 
>  **Disclaimer**  
>  I don't own the show or the characters. No money is made from my stories. I write for fun and I only claim plot points.
> 
> This story is beta read by my wonderful, amazing friend, [Indiepjones46](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiepjones46/pseuds/indiepjones46). Thank you, Indie for your precious beta read on my story and for your constant support. You're my backbone, my beacon, and my guide through rough times. It's always such a joy to have you by my side on my way through the maze of my writing. You're my rock and your friendship means the world to me. Big love to you, my bestie in the westie.
> 
>  
> 
> A big thanks to you my lovely readers, for dropping by and for reading my story. This is always such a gift. Mahalo!
> 
> I hope you like it.

Steve clutches the cell to his ear. The ringtone gets lost in a void and he waits, tensed up and full of hope, that with the next ringing he finally hears Mary's voice. He refuses to hang up. His chest feels tight. The nervousness sneaks up his spine and his neck hair reacts quite excessively. The sensation results in an uncomfortable, spiky feeling that spreads in all directions and turns his shoulder muscles into hard knots.

Steve is aware of his impetuous reaction to dial Mary's number so late at night. He can't remember when he's been that out of his league to seek his baby sister's advice. Since Aunt Deb died, Mary has moved up the fill her place. Whenever Steve's in need of solid advice concerning how to handle ingredients, recipes, and the obvious lack of the planned final result, he calls Mary. Steve ardently tries to telepathically connect with his sister. In his mind, he pushes her out of bed to make her pick up the damn phone.

He has only two days left, and if Steve is totally, brutally honest with himself, he has never thought that baking cookies from scratch would demand that much skill. Skills he evidently isn't in possession of. Steve glares at the recipe on his laptop. He feels as if all the ingredients are making fun of him, especially the excellent illuminated picture of rich, round homemade cookies. He sighs and swears under his breath, and he waits and lets it ring. Steve needs to thank Mary one day for the fact that she always forgets to switch on the answering machine. 

Ah, yes, of course, he has also chosen a more complex cookie for a well-advanced level because he bakes for Danny. Steve might want to impress him a little bit with the result, but the only thing he seems to be doing is failing right now. Steve is frustrated and disappointed that nothing goes as planned. Apparently, it takes a bit more finesse than to tear open a pack of a baking mix and finishing it by adding water or milk, and voilà the cake is done! His latest attempt to create a cookie dough is unusable. The clock is ticking, and his gridlocked situation kicks him into an agitated, insecure dribbling on his toes. That's a highly uncommon habit, Steve observes dryly.

"Damn, Mary. Pick up the damn phone. What the hell are you doing? Why does this take so long?" Steve mutters under his breath and draws some circles in the overloaded and smeary surface of the kitchen counter. The working surface gives Steve the non-sugarcoated view of how things don't work out the way he's imagined it. His kitchen is a hot mess.

His apron is full of stains, mostly flour, but also some sticky patches consisting of raw dough. His hands are crusty, but Steve hasn't had the patience to wash them before he picked up his cell. A few minutes ago, he's thrown his fifth effort into the trash. He's not one step closer to create pumpkin chocolate butterscotch chip cookies. The splatter of the mostly liquid dough still faintly echoes in his ears.

Steve smacks the flat of his hand onto the surface when Mary's drowsy voice hit his eardrum. "Steve? Are you okay? It's in the middle of the night. What's up?" Mary croaks into the speaker.

"Hey, Mar! Finally, look I'm sorry. Really, I'm so sorry to wake you." He talks fast. "And I know, it's way past calling time." Steve exhales and drives his free hand through his hair, totally forgetting that it's covered in flour and dough remains, but his concentration is focused on Mary's voice and his task. "I'm so sorry. I didn't notice. I've completely lost track of time. Did I wake JoJo?" Steve feels guilty. He bites his lips and paces back on forth in front of the big table.

"No, don't worry. She's still asleep. What's up, Punk? You sound as if you have ants in your pants." Mary's words get clearer the longer she speaks. "Steve, what's going on?"

Steve deflates and stops dead in his tracks. He squeezes his eyes shut. "I need your help, Mar, like very much and like right now." He waits with bated breath and a clenched fist.

"You're scaring me, Steve. Stop doing that. Is it a life-and-death situation? Is someone hurt? Are you hurt or in danger?" Mary asks with so much worry in her voice.

"No, no! No life-and-death situation, no ugly situation at all. I'm okay, everyone is okay. Don't worry. It's nothing bad and it's nothing serious, but it's kinda important to me." Steve bumps his hips against the rim of the counter, rocking against the edge. He waits for Mary to decipher his mood over the phone.

"Gosh, Steve! You scared the shit out of me! Can't you just talk like a normal, sane person? I hate when you do that. What do you want me to do?" Mary exhales with an annoyance in her voice.

"Come over?" Steve makes a face and stares at his hand, the one he has run through his hair. It's quite clean now.

Mary sighs at the other end. "Come over?" She parrots his words and Steve snorts in response. "Steven, when do you learn to just ask what you want? What's that supposed to mean? It's late at night and you just woke me. My mind works slow and I'm not up to play 'find the cat in the picture'. No riddles, no funny talking – out with it. What do you need? Jesus, it's not that difficult, Punk. Plain and straight, please?" Mary's clear voice has this demanding tone now, the one she has learned to use since Joanie has appeared in her life. Motherhood suits her well and Mary is one wonderful lion-mother. Steve grins because Mary has a way to get on his nerves, but at the same time, he loves her so much. "I'm waiting, Steve. I'll count till ten, and if you haven't answered my question, I'll hang up."

Steve kicks with his slippah a few times against the lowest cupboard. It's not that easy to admit to Mary how desperate he actually feels. "I need you to come over… meaning I want you to visit me – here on Hawaii. You need to help me bake some cookies – pumpkin chocolate butterscotch chip cookies. I need them to be finished and neatly wrapped up on Wednesday morning." Steve groans and dips his chin. He has confessed that he's in deep, uncommon, non-crime related shit. It's such a comical moment it almost makes him bark out a laugh. Mary will tease him forever.

"Okay?" Mary's obvious elevated eyebrows are even visible in her voice. "Are the cookies a present for someone?"

Steve almost trips over his feet. Mary takes the situation seriously. She must have read something between his words. Steve purses his lips. "Yes." He still kicks at the cupboard with his slippah, observing his toes with a fake concentration. He's astonished to find flour even between his toes.

"They have to be homemade? Like from scratch and all?"

"Yes." Steve fumbles with his hair and finds the dried crumbles of dough. He twirls the strands of hair between his fingers. He presses his lips together, scrunching up his face. He doesn't want to know what an impression he gives Mary right this moment. It's a first, him calling her in the middle of the night about how to make cookies. He knows he only can convince Mary to fly over to Hawaii if he's honest. He'll answer all her questions without holding back information although he feels as if he has fallen into an innocent comedy film from the fifties and he's the super jerk.

"How important is this for you, Steve? Huh? Let's use a scale." Mary pauses while Steve hears water running. She must have filled a glass because she swallows a few gulps before she continues. Steve doesn't interrupt her. "Uhm, on a scale from one to ten. Let's see: one is 'you don't give a fuck' and ten is 'nothing else matters but this. You even would sell your soul to the cooking-baking-fairy'." Mary's calm voice shows how much she enjoys making fun of him, knowing he needs her.

"Jesus, Mary. That's a pretty messed up scale. Can't you just choose a normal measurement?" Steve huffs.

"Answer my question, Punk!" Mary demands

"Twenty?" Steve's heart makes a funny movement and he watches the picture of perfect homemade cookies. He honest to god fantasizes about the moment when he places the bag with the baked, perfect-looking product on Danny's desk at HQ. He wants this to be a wonderful surprise. It has to be nothing short of stunning and impeccable. Steve almost jumps when Mary's clear voice pierces loud through the speaker. He's forgotten her for a few seconds there. Damn, Danny always gets him lost in daydreams.

"Okay, Steve. Here's the deal. I don't really understand what's going on, but this is important to you. So, listen up." Mary has an impressive way to switch from seeming annoyed into full-action mode from one moment to the other. Steve's almost taken by surprise. He wouldn't have expected to convince Mary that fast. Holy crap, he must give one hell of a desperate impression.

Mary talks like a machine gun, passing out orders. "I'm on my way to Hawaii with the first flight that's available. I've planned a quiet Thanksgiving with Joanie because I'll come over anyway to spend Christmas with you guys. _But_ – you need me, brother, and I'll be there for you. You bear the expense, just so you know. You'll book me a ticket, you'll deposit it at the airport. You'll inform me when my plane leaves and you'll pick me up in Oahu." Mary's demands are like a shower of blossoms raining down on Steve.

He realizes that she wasn't teasing him. She just confirms that she'll fly home to see him. His cry for help has been heard, and Steve's so thankful he sags against the fridge.

"Done. Whatever you need, you'll get it. Thank you, Mary. I owe you." Steve expresses, moved.

"You're my brother, Steve. I love you and you don't owe me anything. It doesn't happen often that you ask me for my help in the middle of the night. It's a wonderful feeling. I'm here for you and I want to know more about the girl who motivates you to make this considerable effort to create homemade cookies. Text me when you have all the information. I'll hang up because I need to pack some bags." 

Steve's hears Mary rummaging in some drawer. She calls something, and Steve just listens. He hasn't answered her question. "Oh, hey, Steve, if the cookies are made with butter, don't put it in the fridge. Leave the butter outside. I need it soft to work it into the dough, okay? Gotta go!"

"Warm butter?" Steve can't hide his astonishment. He can't admit that he's hardly read the recipe because… how damn complicated could it be to bake cookies, right? Shit.

"For Christ's sake, Steven, no wonder your cookies are a disaster! Nope, don't even start to explain to me how many times you threw away _everything_. I'm sure you just mixed all ingredients in your super high-tech smoothie blender because why not, right? And you keep wondering why the dough is the same mess every freaking time. Mary to the rescue. I get it. I'm already on my way, big brah. Hold it together, help is on the way. Bye, Stevie."

The disconnected sign blares in his ears. Mary has some sass and sometimes she's such a cheeky monkey. Steve's snarky answer lies on his tongue, but she's already cut the line and Steve ogles with red cheeks his sticky, smudged blender. How could she possibly know? 

Steve puts the cell back on the counter and relaxes for the first time in hours. He hangs his head and just breathes for a few moments. God, he's so happy Mary's coming over. "It's not for a girl, Mar. It's for Danny." He says into the empty kitchen. He smiles. He loves Mary's sassy way and it's a thrilling feeling to know his sister is really there for him if he needs her. She's willing to come over because he's asked her _to do just that_. He rubs his fist over his chest and ignores the sting in his eyes. He clears his throat.

Steve lets the boyish grin spread wide over his face. He's back on track. He switches on the radio and starts with a swing in his step to clean up his kitchen. His reward for this great effort and all the tension he has had to sustain tonight will be a hot and a very long shower. Dismantling a gun blindfolded and put it back together in a certain amount of time is way easier than to understand the language of a cookie recipe.

 

******

 

"Just watch Steve, and learn something. Take your hands off – no, just – step back and don't be so hasty. You can't bake under pressure, Steve, no way. Your cookies won't like it. As promised, we'll do everything a second time and there you can do each step on your own. I'll stay at the sideline and I'll only watch, agreed?" Mary looks confident and at ease.

Steve did everything wrong when he created his hellish mix of a cookie dough. He has thought long and hard what to buy Danny for Christmas because he wants him to give something really special; something to remember. This Thanksgiving present idea just hit him while Steve had been shopping groceries after work a couple of days ago.

He hasn't planned anything in detail because it seemed so obvious and so easy that there's nothing much to do but to throw all the ingredients together and boom, the cookies should appear like magic in front of his eyes. Oh boy, he couldn't be more wrong. Steve must admit the task grew over his head and he lost his cool. That's why he ended up in a terrible mess with flour everywhere. He got jumpy, too scared that he wouldn't make it in time and he doesn't have a plan B up his sleeve. He needs this to work. And he doesn't want to wait till Christmas. He wants this to be ready for Thanksgiving. He wants this for Danny. Hence his distress call to Mary. 

Joanie carries all her toys into the kitchen and hands Steve a teddy bear and a green octopus to hold. He bends down and hoists her up into his arms. He kisses her cheek. His little niece shakes her head and giggles. Joanie squirms in his arms and watches with interest what Mary's doing. She wants to help her mother. "You can help to make round balls with the dough as soon as it's ready, sweetheart, okay?" 

It feels so good to spend some time with Mary and his gorgeous niece. Gosh, he has missed them so much. "I didn't know you are that good at baking cookies." Steve's voice is filled with awe. He rocks Joanie on his hips. She grows so fast! He understands now why Danny always complains about his kids being toddlers like a moment ago and now they're already teenagers, at least Grace, and he has no clue when that happened. Joanie rests her head against Steve's shoulder and his heart melts with all the love he has for Mary's girl. He can't wait to have them back for Christmas.

The last time Mary stood in his kitchen at his stove was last Thanksgiving. Steve had to remind her to flip the pancakes in time, and at the end, she tried to defrost the turkey with a hairdryer. Steve has no idea what has happened in between last year and this year because she's become one hell of a cook and a baker. He can't stop smiling. His cookies will rock Danny's world.

"I grew up with Aunt Deb, Steve. She was a great cook and she could have opened a bakery. She was that good. I've learned everything from her." Mary's hand movements are well-coordinated. It's pure pleasure to watch her do her bakery-mojo. She turns her head and looks at him. "Who's the lucky girl? Who gets these rich cookies anyway? You still haven't answered that one." Mary side-eyes him with a soft smile on her lips while she persuades her daughter to eat a mango slice.

Steve has always loved the hoarse note in Mary's voice. It sounds like home and long forgotten summer days. He's happy both are with him on this important holiday. Danny will leave on Wednesday evening to fly to New Jersey to spend Thanksgiving with his family. Steve feels already the emptiness that always hollows his heart whenever Danny's not in Hawaii.

"Actually, they're for Danny. He's a great cook, too, and he bakes fantastic cookies. I want to surprise him. He's flying back home for Thanksgiving." He hopes he keeps a neutral facial expression, but of course, he fails. Mary's eyes roam over his face before she turns back to her dough and remains silent. "I'm making amends for last year. I ate Danny's Santa cookies and he wasn't pleased." Steve grabs a towel to clean Joanie's hands.

"You're more than surf buddies now?" Mary asks innocently. "Baking cookies for Danny? That's kinda special."

"I don't know what you mean. It's just a nice gesture because it's Thanksgiving. Danny is my partner for over eight years now. Don't you think your comparison is kinda old? Yes, we're surf buddies. He's my best friend, too." Steve is glad to have Joanie in his arms. He swings her around to make her giggle and to avoid Mary's searching look.

"Dough is ready, guys. Let's roll some round balls. Come on, Peanut, let's help Uncle Steve to create awesome love-cookies." Mary singsongs and picks Joanie from his arms.

Steve doesn't know what to say or if he wants to say anything at all. The touch of pink dusting his cheeks seems to answer all of Mary's questions.

"Steve," Mary's soft tone makes Steve lift his head. "Aunt Deb had a lot of friends in the showbiz, gay friends. They came by on a regular basis and we always had a great time. It's okay to love who you want. I don't care as long as I know you're happy." Mary talks to the bowl while she heaps the dough onto the counter into a small heap of flour.

Steve goes still. He presses his lips together while his heart makes a funny dance in his chest. It's a strange new experience to listen to this wisdom from his baby sister. He feels shy to know that she's okay with him loving a man. Yes, he loves Danny, but Danny doesn't know that. Steve might have missed the chance to act on his feelings. After years of pining, he isn't sure how to move on, how to approach this twisted thing called love he feels so strongly for his partner. 

Steve just wants to surprise him with a special gift, hoping he likes it. Aunt Deb's memories are alive in Mary's and Steve's heads and they talk about some beloved moments they shared together while they roll round balls between their palms. The baking tray fills with perfect pieces and some squashed somethings from Joanie in between the rows. His little niece eats most of the dough anyway, and Mary washes her hands at some point and sends her off to play instead of getting sick while eating too much butter and sugar.

Steve can't hide his pride when the second load of the cookies, made by him alone, come off perfectly. He watches them the whole time in the oven when they melt into a perfect round shape with chocolate chips and butterscotch chips dancing on the surface.

 

*****

 

Steve sneaks a peek through the glass walls at Danny who sits concentrating in front of his computer. He finishes up all work before he has to get ready to catch his flight. Steve's team is occupied with paperwork, like filling out forms, finishing reports. Everyone hopes there's no new case disturbing this peace one day before Thanksgiving. 

Steve admits that he hasn't thought this special op through. He's only imagined how the cookies must look like once they are packed in this lovely, see-through bag with a Christmas theme printed on the front side. The white and red ribbon he's bought the other day is tied nicely into a bow. The whole present looks Christmas-y enough to make it presentable. Steve would take this information to his grave, but he came by the HQ late at night yesterday to sneak into his office. He hides the bag with Danny's gift in the lowest drawer at the side of his desk. He has wanted to be prepared in case Danny would call early in the morning to ask for a lift in case Tani's car broke down or something stupid like that.

Steve wouldn't have known how to explain his little gift bag with a present stuffed inside. Danny would have grilled him on the whole way to the Palace. Steve is sure it would have ended with him fuming with anger only to throw the bag into Danny's lap to shut him up. And that would have ruined his whole plan.

Steve hides his grin when he tries to focus on his laptop. Danny suffers to hand over his responsibilities for his football team to Tani. He's going to miss their annual game, but Tani is as fierce in sports as any guy Steve knows. She has this bulldog gene inherited and won't let go until she scores. Steve will have a blast to pulverize her defense, to score points, and to make her suffer for losing with Danny's team. Steve feels guilty for about half a second about using Tani to get to Danny, but this is such an outstanding opportunity. He knows Danny will chew on his bottom lip the whole trip to Jersey not knowing if his team got steamrolled into the ground or if it has scored enough points to get Steve angry and outrageously competitive for the next year's game.

Oh, it's going to be such a perfect distraction, and it would give Steve a reason to call Danny. Yep, in the end, it comes back to this important detail. Steve needs a reason to call Danny to listen to his ranting about his wild and loud family. Danny will make Steve repeat every little detail about the game and they will discuss Mamo's decision about scored points. Everything about this call will make Steve feel less alone. Every word from Danny would give him the feeling he's still close.

Steve gives himself a little shake. He's stalling. He knows it. 

He pulls his drawer open and glances down at this innocent paper bag with the wrapped-up cookies inside. Steve sighs and is suddenly unsure. He has never gifted Danny with homemade cookies. What was he thinking? It feels stupid, immature and he acted on a feeling that surged through his stomach three days ago. In the harsh light of day, it seems kind of a girlish move, and Steve is convinced Danny will make some snarky remarks about them. Steve's not sure if he could take it. He feels sensitive and he catches himself thinking that maybe he should just take the cookies back home again.

Steve sighs. Mary would yell at him for being a coward and for making her come over only to find out that her SEAL brother can't even find the bravery to hand over a bag of cookies. Jesus. He pulls the drawer open and reaches down. Steve stands up with the small bag dangling from his hand. His stomach drops funnily when he glances at Danny and sees how he already stares back at him. 

He forces his feet to move. This should be easy. It's not the first time he's given a gift to Danny, but it's the first time this present means so much. The meaning weighs heavy on the cookie bag, and Steve senses how his bicep tenses up. The emotions which are kneaded into the dough makes Steve's heartbeat tank. He swallows and pushes Danny's office door open.

Danny starts talking the second Steve's halfway through the door. "I was wondering if you were dealing with a serious case of low blood sugar. I wasn't sure there for a moment if you'd crash headlong into your drawer the way you stared down into that direction." Danny swivels on his chair and faces Steve head-on. 

"Can't a guy think for five minutes without getting judged?" Steve closes the door and waits for a tad too long. Danny's eyes shoot from his face to his hand, to the bag and back up to his face.

"What's with the face, Steve. I don't know this face. It's a new one. You're making a new face and it worries me. It looks too familiar with the face you wear when we're about to strike. I don't like this energy that wafts around you like a too big Santa Clause costume." Danny gets up, slowly and with a small hesitation as if Steve's way of entering his office makes Danny insecure and extremely wary.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Danny." Steve decides to get it done, like a mission. Load and enter, no time to overthink anything. The action rolls, unstoppable, and if Danny needs to make a witty, dumb remark, Steve's gonna take it like a grown man. Steve strolls towards Danny's desk, and with a soft swing of his arm, he lifts the bag and lets it fall down with a soft thud. The thin plastic foil makes a strangely unfamiliar rustling sound, and it seems especially jarring when it's connected to a 6'1'' tall guy, bulky and muscularly built.

"What's this?" Danny's words scratch in Steve's ear. 

"It's a present from me to you – for Thanksgiving." Steve already loses his nerves. "Can't I give you something without being suspected of having an ulterior motive? Huh? It's just a present, nothing fancy, nothing expensive. From a friend. I won't see you tomorrow. It's harmless. I'm not blowing up stuff and I'm not jumping off bridges today. It's just a simple gift." Steve turns to leave. He's wrong. He's not ready to take any comment Danny wants to drop. He's too sensitive about this one.

"Where you're going?" Danny makes a step into his direction.

"My desk is still buried under a pile of files. I need to go back to work." Steve pulls the glass door open and side-eyes Danny. He curses for blushing like a dumb, shy schoolboy. He makes a big fuss about readjusting his badge while holding the door handle.

"You, uh, you don't want to wait until I look inside the bag to unpack your gift?" 

"No. It's not so much fun to give you a gift. You can't just take it and be joyful about it. You always have to be a smart ass about it and give me a hard time. I – uh, not today." Steve steps out into the corridor.

"Hey, Steve! Wait! That's not true. Tell me when I've made fun of you. When was the last time you gave me a present and I made fun of you? Tell me." Danny hurries to catch the closing door.

Steve isn't sure if Danny's hurt, or if he managed to say the right words and hit a sore spot.

"The chef's hat?" Steve informs Danny with a calm, stoic voice.

"Oh," Danny stops dead in his tracks. "It's so unusual to get a present from you. I never know why you do it."

Steve sighs and suppresses the urge to scrub a hand over his face. Danny never can leave it be. "People get other people presents on Thanksgiving. No big deal, Daniel. It's exactly that, just a present for a special day, a small attention for a friend. That – that's it." He turns, and with two wide strides, he enters his office and flops down into his chair. Steve feels Danny's eyes on him through all the glass. He catches Danny's look. It's still hot and full of unanswered questions.

Steve pretends to work, typing away on his laptop. He almost chokes on his breath when Junior calls from his office to ask something about a case and how he should handle the information. Steve can't leap fast enough into this distraction. The flush on his cheeks deepens when his eyes travel back to where Danny's sitting at his desk with the gift bag in his hands. Steve's stomach drops into his shoes and he loses Junior there for a couple of seconds.

Danny holds the wrapped cookies in his hand. He turns on his chair from left to right, lost in thoughts. Steve watches as Danny reads the tiny card Steve fixed to the ribbon. He had lost count on how many times he'd had to start over until the right words seemed as nonchalant and as friendly as possible. The little card says: 'Happy Thanksgiving, Danno' on the first line, and with a gap in between, Steve scribbled neatly on the left side: 'And yes, they're made from scratch'.

Steve hastily answers Junior's questions before he fumbles the receiver back onto the phone the moment Danny enters Steve's office.

Neither of them says a word, and Steve pierces the silence with clearing his throat. "Got a question?"

"Can you give me a lift to the airport?" Danny asks almost shyly. He doesn't prance around in the office like he usually does. He only steps a few more feet into Steve's office.

Steve stands up so fast his stretched knees kick the chair back, so it bangs against the shelf. He clears his throat again, but the words still have this hoarse note. "I thought you asked Tani to drive you?" Steve still feels the sting of hurt when Danny had informed him that he asked Tani for a lift to the airport. He doesn't have any explanation but the one about some important heart-to-heart talk about the football game. It still hurts that Danny hadn't wanted him at his side making sure he gets his flight in time.

Danny purses his lips and comes closer with his hands hidden in his pants pockets. "Yeah, I asked her, but after your – your nice present, I've changed my mind. Besides, I've coached her already about the important moves for the game tomorrow afternoon. I know she will make me proud. She's fierce and she wants to win. She'll do fine." Danny swipes his eyes over Steve's face before he goes back to rocking on his heels looking a bit forlorn. "Do you want me to beg?" 

Steve hears the tight tone in Danny's voice. "No, Danny, of course not. I'm just not sure why you're asking me now. Is there a reason why you've changed your mind? I thought it wasn't important to you who drives you." Steve swallows and almost shakes his head about all the stupid shit he asks. He wants to be important to Danny, not as a friend, but as a focal point. He wants to be at the center of Danny's life in every way. He wants to have this deeper meaning for Danny. He wants this so badly it's almost pathetic. Steve devotedly waits for Danny's answer.

"You know that it's never unimportant who drives me, Steve. Your cookies did change my mind." Danny sneaks closer with his eyes fixed on Steve's face. He could have sworn that Danny's cheeks were flushed with a hue of red. He looks uncertain and acts cautiously. This is such a strange combination and it shakes Steve quite a bit. 

Danny starts to speak again. "Your present took me by surprise. I wasn't expecting such a wonderful gift. Thank you, Steve. I really mean it. I would never want to make fun of you or say anything inappropriate about such a wonderful present. I love cookies, and you made them for me – personally—from scratch. I know how much work it takes to get them to look like this. I guess you had Mary's help to get them that perfect. I'm moved, okay?" Danny runs his fingertips over the edge on Steve's desk, dipping his chin and folding his lower lip over his upper lip. A clear sign that Danny thinks hard and tries to hide emotions.

"You really like it?" Steve asks hopefully.

"I don't like it, babe, I love it. I – " Danny turns and searches for his eyes.

"I ate your Santa cookies last Christmas," Steve adds with a low chuckle. "I wanted to put that right. That's why the special recipe because yours were shockingly good." He says softly. 

"Yeah, you did." Danny smiles at the memory but still shuffles closer. "Thank you for doing this – it's lovely, it's nice, and it's, uhm, very unexpected." Danny still draws circles with his fingers on Steve's desk. "This is the reason why Mary is here, right? You needed her help." Danny guesses innocently.

"Maybe," Steve answers vaguely, but he doesn't miss the small smile lingering around Danny's soft lips. He knows he can't hide his many failures forever. Danny will eventually pull all the background information right out of his nose like how many trials and errors had been made until the end result had satisfied Steve's perfectionism. Steve would love the teasing about it. He always does. 

"Will you drive me to the airport, babe?" 

Steve withstands the need to sink onto the couch. Danny has never asked him with such an emotive voice. "Anytime, Danno. When do we need to leave?" And despite all the turmoil in his chest, he can't hide the wide grin that split his face in half. "You really like my cookies?"

Danny watches him with soulful eyes, and Steve almost folds under all the emotion that these blue eyes stir to life in his chest. "Of course, I like your cookies; as I said, I love them. _I love them_ , babe. Even if you haven't told me yet how your kitchen looked when you called Mary for help. But knowing you, I'm guessing your baking attempts didn't go as planned and you gave Mary a call somewhere between midnight and three o'clock in the morning with a clear order to get her ass onto the next plain because you're in a crisis." Danny laughs with so much joy and affection, Steve only stands there and drowns in feelings. 

"I don't admit anything." Steve croaks while his fingers fumble again with his badge. He doesn't know where to put them. Danny knows him too well.

"I still can't believe that you had Mary flown to the island to help you with the recipe. It's a precious gift, Steve, thank you." Danny turns around and Steve catches a glimpse of a very disturbed expression on Danny's face. It causes his stomach to roll uncomfortably, not knowing what troubles Danny after he has just admitted that he loves the cookies. Danny calls over his shoulder before he leaves the office again. "We have to leave in twenty minutes, okay?"

Steve is rooted to the spot even though Danny is back in his office already shuffling paper back and forth on his desk, ordering his files in neat stacks.

Steve would have wanted a hug from Danny. It takes him a couple of seconds to translate this hollow twinge in his chest. The whole mission should have ended in a tight, warm hug. The kind of I-thank-you-for-the-cookies-and-happy-Thanksgiving-to-you-too hug that should have lasted at least three minutes and Steve would have tried to suck up as much closeness as possible.

He turns around and tries to shake this dull pain of loss about the hug that hasn't happened. Danny wants Steve to drive him to the airport. At least he has some time left with Danny before he's gone for four days.

 

******

 

The traffic is terrible, and it took them almost twenty minutes longer to get to the airport. Steve had hoped to lure Danny into a light discussion or their usual banter about nothing in particular, but it was not to be. Grace and Charlie were spending their Thanksgiving with Rachel and Stan at their grandparent's home, and Steve knows that Danny misses his kids. Danny's phone rings as Steve is busy putting Danny's small suitcase into the trunk. It was Charlie, and Steve listens to Danny talking to his kids almost the whole way to the airport. 

Danny says goodbye to Grace and heaves a heavy sigh.

"You okay?" Steve asks and grabs the gear shift hard to keep his hand from sneaking over to Danny's thigh.

"Yeah. I'll have them over Christmas. I know it's fair and it's okay, but I miss them already so much. I hate when we are all split up like that. It doesn't feel right." Danny goes quiet again and stares out of the window.

Steve drives into the parking garage and tries to come up with some comfort. He draws a blank and he can't find some suitable words to calm Danny's churned up heart. Danny is a family person and there's no way to make him feel better. 

"I'm sorry, Danno," Steve whispers and gets out of the car, giving Danny some time to pull himself together.

He waits patiently with Danny's suitcase by his side. He watches with a tight throat as Danny slides from his seat and closes the door shut. 

"Are you up for a quick coffee before you head through check-in?" Steve refuses to hand over the small hand luggage. He carries Danny's case. Steve needs this, to look out for Danny even if these are tiny, unimportant details, but he can't fight the urge to keep a foot in the door. 

Danny is unusually quiet. He startles Steve with the suddenly uttered confession while they stand quietly in the elevator to get to the departure hall. "I hate to say goodbye, that's why I didn’t ask you to drive me to the airport." Danny stubbornly stares ahead.

Steve shakes his head and knits his brows. "You're coming back, Danny. You will be gone only for four days. There's no big goodbye here." 

Danny doesn't respond and squeezes his body between the half-opened doors as soon as the elevator stops at their floor. Steve has to chase him, and after he dodges a few other people heavily loaded with bags and suitcases, he manages to grab Danny's upper arm. 

"Danny, stop for a second." Steve tugs at his arm and holds him back. "We don't have to drink coffee if you don't feel like it. I can walk you to your gate or the check-in desk or I can leave you here if it makes you feel uncomfortable." Steve isn't sure what's up right this moment. "Hey, Danny, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?" Steve tries to make him turn to see his face. His hand clutches Danny's suitcase tightly.

Danny's face is a bit stony and he bites his lower lip too often. Steve observes a slight quiver in Danny's chin. He keeps the case close to his side to have both hands free. "Danny?" 

"I'm an emotional person, okay? I don't apologize for that. I hate to say goodbye. I hate to leave. I hate to know my kids celebrate Thanksgiving without me. I don't like to see you standing here while I walk away. I don't – I don't like to say goodbye to you at the airport." Danny clears his throat and purses his lips. He ducks his head and tries to stand still but his feet are moving in tiny sideways steps.

Steve's sees how he holds it together, even if the cracks in his demeanor are so visible for him. "That's okay, Danny. I get it. You miss your kids and I'm so sorry for your hurt. And I can leave right now if it makes you feel better." Steve doesn't really get why Danny fights with this situation so much.

It hasn't happened often enough that he has accompanied Danny to the airport and he's confused. He would want to hug Danny if this makes him feel better. Steve walks on eggshells here and he carefully chooses to do the right thing. He had actually hoped that Danny would feel better when he has his best friend by his side. Steve could feel a coldness clamp down on his heart. He wishes he could be a better support for Danny. He would wish to matter so much more, and he also would wish to be way braver to just tell Danny how he feels.

"You don't get it, do you, Steve." Danny's strained voice makes Steve's back go stiff. 

Obviously, he has chosen the wrong words. Steve scratches his chin and looks at his shoes. "I don't get what exactly." He looks up and sets his jaw.

Danny steps closer. "It won’t make me feel better if you leave right now, Steve. Why would you even suggest such stupidity?" Danny rants with a fondness in his voice, but still, his words are sharp and his voice wavers.

Steve listens and hopes he doesn't show his despair because he can't solve the riddle right this moment. Danny's in an odd place emotionally and somehow, he seems to be mad at him and the only thing Steve has wanted to do is to give Danny a lift, to make him feel better. He has no clue how he's ended up at the other end of the discussion where Danny tells him again, he doesn't get it. What's there to get? For Christ's sake! A tiredness washes over Steve. He can't figure out why he never could do right by Danny in the most important moments and it hurts badly not to be the support Danny needs. Steve wants to be there for Danny in every situation, especially small ones. 

Danny eyes him warily. "I don't want to say goodbye, babe. It makes me look like an idiot next to you because you're used to traveling to the most dangerous places in the world – _alone_ \- facing the toughest shit _alone_. I never get the feeling you feel anxious or that it bothers you to leave. At least not when I'm with you to see you vanish around the corner to catch your plane." Danny pauses and makes this funny lower-lip-covers-upper-lip-move while he watches Steve the whole time with an intensity that makes him shift on his feet. 

"I tend to well up, okay? I'll make you feel uncomfortable and I feel weak and stupid next to you, alright? I think you might not want to see this. I'm afraid I'll make you squirm when I get emotional about such a little thing like taking a flight to New Jersey to visit my family. It puts a pressure on me to show a brave face. I don't want to pretend when I'm with you, but somehow I can't relax because guess what, it's a freaking big deal, okay, to board a plane alone the day before Thanksgiving."

Steve knows this Danny-face. He's unstoppable now and Steve has to wait it out. So, he lets him talk and forces everything he has into his stance to let it be neutral, supporting, understanding. If Danny only knew. Steve fears so many things and his heart has broken free and beats wildly and uncomfortably hard.

"Airports always make me want to cry and it's pathetic but I can't help it. I hate to go and step into a tiny, dumb metal tube where I don't have any exit for the next couple of hours. I don't have anyone to turn to. I have my own little I'm-freaking-out-and-trying-not-to-go-batshit-crazy party in my tiny, uncomfortable seat in Economy."

Steve listens with a growing dread. He has never figured that traveling is such a big issue for Danny. He could kick himself that he never has thought about airplanes as confined spaces. Shit. 

Danny stops him with his hand held up high. "Don't interrupt me, Steve. I have to get it out, okay?" Danny looks around, blinks a few times, and focuses his glance back on Steve's face. Yes, he looks troubled and there is sadness around his eyes. Steve's heart grows heavy in his chest. He hates where this might end. He listens with strained muscles. 

"I hate to fly alone. I don't want to get separated. I don't want to leave you here. It makes me sad." Danny just stands there, and Steve feels lost. He talks vividly with his hands before he folds his arms in front of his chest and Steve steels himself what will come next because his gut tells him that Danny isn't finished.

"I don't want you to be sad, Danny. I want you to be happy. I'm – I…" Steve's words don't make it from his brain to his mouth because Danny puts a hand flat against his chest. His palm is so warm, and Steve has to close his eyes to keep it together.

"I told you to shut up, Steve. Let me finish my thoughts. I might lose the courage if I don't." Steve casts his eyes before looking Danny square in the face, nodding briefly. Danny inhales forcefully. "Your cookies," Danny grazes his splayed fingers over Steve's shirt, "they were my breaking point, you know?"

"No, I don't know." Steve rasps, bashfully realizing how churned up his words sound in his ears.

Danny's other hand comes up to caress Steve's chest with both his hands, rubbing over his tensed pecs right above his nipples. Steve freezes with his arms hanging loosely at his side. "Breaking point?" Steve was clueless, his mind a wiped clean surface while his skin catches fire under the tender ministration of Danny's traveling fingers. 

"Holidays aren't a good point to start something special, babe. They are so loaded with emotions. They make me feel everything more intense than normal. That's why your present is – " Danny stops and his fingers curl to dig into the fabric of Steve's shirt. "Why would you do that, Steve? Why would you make such a great effort for me? Homemade cookies, with chocolate and butterscotch chips. And you even called Mary for help to make them really good, _for me_. They scream a message, you know?" Danny steps closer. "Do you have any idea how you make me feel?"

"A message? Do they?" Steve mouths, it's hardly a whisper. He shakes his head, a helpless attempt to try to get a clear answer across. "No, I don't know how they make you feel, Danny." Steve's heart leaps into a maddening beat and he knows Danny can feel the hard thumping under his fingertips.

"And you wanted to impress me." 

"Yeah, that too."

Steve has only eyes for Danny and how he tugs at his shirt. He smells the light scent of his shampoo and the woodsy cologne of his aftershave. Steve dips his chin to hide the storm in his eyes.

"You did. You impressed me so much." Danny's hands sneak up higher, grabbing his collar. "I love you, Steve and I'm about to do something very stupid because it's Thanksgiving tomorrow and I'm standing here at the airport moments away from saying goodbye to you." Danny searches for his eyes, holding on and wrapping him up in warmth only with by his gaze.

Steve trembles but stands stock-still, waiting with his blood roaring in his ears. He shoots Danny a glance and meets blue, clear eyes. The sight makes him want to swallow, to pull back because it's too much. He has wished for such a moment, but now that this precious situation unfolds right before his eyes, Steve isn't sure if he can take it. He might combust.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Steve. I'm doing it very slowly, so you can pull back. I love you so much, babe. I have for a very long time. I hate holidays where I can't be with my whole family. You're my family, Steve. And I hate holidays because they always make me so emotional. I want to do sappy things, dumb things that affect both of us because I love you so much. And you gave me the best present ever. Your cookies are a message of love, the kind of love that includes kissing and so much more. I always tried to find the secret hint in your gifts. I was joking about them because I wanted you to want me, too. But your cookies, damn Steve – they finally told me what I always needed to know."

Danny's face comes closer and Steve gets the impression a second lasts a _fucking_ day.

"God, Danny. I can't string two words together and you're freaking me out with your poetic, romantic Romeo-speech about my cookies. What – I? Damn, why are you still talking?" Steve whispers with this hint of hidden hysterics, his voice hoarse. Steve wants to lean in but it's earth-shattering beautiful to be tenderly pulled down while Danny's hands fist his shirt.

Danny huffs a choked chuckle. "To give you time to think about this carefully. There's no way back after this, Steve." Danny murmurs against his lips. Steve feels Danny's warm puffs of air on his skin. His body quivers with every beat of his strong, longing heart. His hands finally find their way onto Danny's hips where they rest lightly. His fingers twitch and crawl upwards over Danny's clothes on his back and the tight flesh underneath.

"I don't need time to think, Danno. I never wanted to be elsewhere but right here." Steve rasps with wide open eyes. He needs to see Danny, needs to know that this isn't a freaking dream.

"Then kiss me like you mean it, babe." Danny murmurs against Steve parted lips. The slight brush from Danny's mouth against his own feels like a whiplash Steve endures in this silly stupor while his heart beats almost out of his chest. That's happening, right? This here? Danny wants to kiss him, Danny is about to _kiss him_ , and Steve has a mild meltdown. He has always pictured this scene remotely different. He had been so sure it would include some struggle, a sexy struggle where he'd pin Danny against a wall and somehow just dive for his lips, just mutinously with no second thoughts to shut him up.

Steve's arms close around Danny's pliant body. He hugs him with all he's got. It's overwhelming how Danny arches into him, towards him. Steve bends his head and his eyelids shut with a flutter. His whole body is a cocktail of nerves and hormones and excitement. 

Steve captures Danny's lips softly, hesitantly, yet so determined. Danny leans in, bending his head, melting into his arms. He closes he mouth over Danny's lush lips, hyper-aware of their bumping noses, of their breath against each other's skin. Steve is so aware of _their lips kissing_.

Danny's soft, sweet, tiny moans make Steve's stomach lurch. He controls his groan, keeps it jammed in his throat because – _come on_ , they're standing in public, at the airport, experiencing their very first kiss, and despite someone possibly spotting them, Steve wants this so badly.

He pulls Danny's body into his with his hand spread wide at the small of his back. His pinky presses into the soft curve of Danny's ass. His other hand wanders upwards to circle his fingers around Danny's warm neck.

Danny's hands are still buried in his shirt, pulling him down onto his mouth.

Steve's breath shudders when the tip of Danny's tongue darts over his lips. His arms are tightly wrapped around Danny's strong back, feeling hard, strained muscles and – _heat_. It's not the first time he hugs Danny so tight but it's altogether a totally different universe. The experience of this intense sensation makes Steve almost lose the ground beneath his feet. _Jesus_. Steve opens his mouth and welcomes Danny's tongue with a tenderness he hadn't expected. It takes all his willpower to keep his hips from canting towards Danny's. 

The kiss is short, way too short for Steve's taste. He wants to chase Danny's withdrawing mouth, but he knows this isn't the time to get lost in the moment. They both keep their rampage of emotion on a short leash.

Their lips entangle just as slowly. Steve hugs the back of Danny's neck, possessively, protective, and with a certain shyness.

He kisses Danny repeatedly, with soft, lingering pecks. His hand travels up and down over Danny's back. He keeps him plastered close to his front. It's intoxicating the way Danny answers his sweet, innocent kisses. He nibbles at Steve's lower lip, wanders over to the corner of his mouth only to lick one more time between Steve's lips, touching his tongue lightly. Steve's heart races so fast it makes it hard to breathe.

"I love you, Danno." He murmurs before he swipes him into a tight, shivering hug. He exhales when Danny's arms loop around his waist. Steve presses his face into the crook of Danny's neck. "Danno –" Steve whispers with a thick voice.

"I'm here, babe. I'll be back in four days. Four days, Steve." Danny sways on the spot, tiny soft, soothing swings.

"I'll be here, waiting for you." Steve isn't ready to let go yet but Danny has to catch his plane. "I'll pick you up."

"I can't wait. Let's skip the coffee, babe. I don't want to sit across a stupid table playing footsie while I lust for totally different things." Danny pulls away to look at him.

Steve smile spread over his face until he grins, flushed and bashful. _He just kissed Danny._

"You okay?" Danny flattens the creases in his collar, looking smug and pleased and happy.

"Of course, I'm okay." He kisses Danny's forehead just because he can. His hands rest firmly on the small of Danny's back.

"Will you meet the guys later?" Danny's hands play with Steve's biceps. "Gosh, although I love to see my family, missing the game really sucks."

"Yeah, this suck. It's not the same when you're not there. The game starts at one o'clock tomorrow. Mary and JoJo will meet me at Kamekona's. Don't worry about the game. Tani has your back and she's going to be a decent representation for your team. Don't expect me to go easy on them, Danny. My team will give her a hard time. They have to suffer if they want to win."

That earns Steve a light punch to his chest. "You play fair, hard but fair," Danny demands.

Steve manages to fake innocence. "I always play fair!" 

"You're too competitive. I know you, Steve, but I also know Tani and she will kick ass. She'll make you sweat."

Steve delves into this newness to talk with Danny about the common, well-known stuff but from this new position of being in love. It's inebriating, yet grounding.

"I've gotta go, Steve." Danny reluctantly steps away.

"Will you call me when you've landed?" Steve's arms feel empty without Danny to hold.

"Of course, I will. Are you okay to sign the contract tomorrow night, Steve? I'm sorry you have to do this without me. I would have wanted to be there, too, but it's all settled with the restaurant and the takeover. It's just the final detail. I put my signature already on the dotted line and after you've signed, we're both free men again." Danny watches Steve closely.

They start to walk towards the check-in desk and Steve still carries Danny's hand luggage. "Don't worry about that, Danny. It'll be fine. We're all meeting at the restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner and I've agreed with Kamekona to wind up the final paperwork right before we start to eat. It's all good." Steve can't really think about anything but the fact that Danny's about to leave him for four long days. He chides himself about how much he doesn't want Danny to go.

"Okay, good. We'll talk later tomorrow. I have a long ass flight ahead of me. I'll call you, babe." Danny stops before the counter. "I haven't had the time to see Mary and Joanie. They'll be back for Christmas, right?"

"Yes, they're back for Christmas. Mary wants to stay a week with JoJo to celebrate New Year's Eve with all of us." Steve smiles.

"I can't wait for Christmas just because we're all back together. Grace and Charlie will be with us throughout the whole holidays. Rachel and Stan are going on vacation for a week."

Steve's chest fills with warmth and love. It's the way Danny says, 'with us'. 

"I have to go now, okay? I hate goodbyes. Let's make it quick. I didn't lie about the teary eyes. I always have been a sap, but I guess with growing older it gets worse." Danny jokes but Steve's sees the strain clearly written all over his face.

"Text me when you're back home with your parents. I want to know you're okay." Steve demands again before he leans in and kisses Danny softly.

"I will." Danny clenches his jaw and smiles tersely only to turn with his ticket ready to be boarded.

Steve watches Danny walk away. He never understood all the people who hoped that the person who leaves would turn around one last time. He has never had a person he loved that much, next to Mary and JoJo, to feel this need to see their faces one more time. Until now, until he watches Danny's back and how the love of his life walks away to get to the gate. Steve crosses his arms over his chest and squashes this amorous notion, but he can't move, he can't turn around. He watches Danny's back and it aches to see him leave.

Danny stops before he heads left. He turns around and smiles at him. He grabs his phone and starts texting. His phone chimes in his pocket. Steve grins, and he bites his lip, sighing ridiculously happy when he reads Danny's text: _I want to kiss you so badly and I miss you already. I'm in love with you, you big goof. Why are you still standing there? I thought I was a romantic idiot._

Steve texts back, his palms damp. His eyes flicker back and forth between his screen and Danny. He doesn't want to miss a beat, wanting the moment to last a small eternity and to reduce the fullness of this funny ache in his chest. He still feels Danny's lips pressed to his mouth. He chases Danny's fading taste, licking with the tip of this tongue over his lips. He feels a strange mix of sadness, effusiveness, and a heady feeling which gives him trouble to keep a balance. Steve almost sways, drunken with emotions, and he has no idea how to hold it together: _Four days, babe. Come back to me, Danno. Love you. Call me_.

Steve hits send and regrets immediately how he has put the words, like a telegram as if he hasn't had enough time to write whole sentences. He's a second thrown off balance, but Danny's blows him a discreet kiss before he turns to disappear out of Steve's sight. He works his jaw and swallows a few times. His eyes burn. Danny has blown him a damn kiss and he _loves it_. Steve fucking loves it.

He has always suspected Danny to be hardcore affectionate, although he has always complained about how tough it is to play the romantic. Steve has always ignored his uneasiness when he witnessed any sort of tenderness between Danny and one of his girlfriends. He understands that he has always been jealous, imagining how it must feel to get all the attention from Danny, laced with this undivided, massive love and all the kisses, clustered together to shine bright and warm in only one direction.

Steve is terribly love-starved and so touch-starved but of course, it's not a deliberate act to ponder over such inadequate details. They somehow float as patches of well-hidden thoughts behind his awakening heart. Steve still can't wrap his mind around the fact that he's at the receiving end of this insanely intense Danny Williams's love. He has always been in Danny's focus, but Steve has never realized it.

He would never let go again.

 

*****

 

The guests spill into the rich decorated restaurant. Kamekona has outdone himself to conjure up the spirit of the beginning holidays. The air is filled with murmurs, teasing voices, lots of chuckles, and an affectionate eruption of shouts from the joyful people. Steve's ohana has come together to celebrate Thanksgiving. He can't keep his eyes from searching the crowd to make out a blond mop of neatly combed hair. Danny's absence feels like a constant burn after a grazing shot. Lou and his family have arrived to tell an obnoxious holiday incident about why they are sans turkey, but Steve can't focus on anything more than a few moments. He hears Mary's bright laughter after Tani laments for the nth time why she and her team should be the rightful owner of the last scored point from their football game.

Steve's concentration is forced onto the contract which lies on the counter. Kamekona gloats while he watches with his hawk eyes how he flips through the pages. In a few seconds, he's the rightful and sole shareholder of former Steve's. His Hawaiian friend informs him that Danny has already signed. Steve's chest clenches when he spots Danny's signature, and his adrenaline level spikes shortly. He keeps an even mask of interest, and with an artful swing of his pen, he puts his name right next to Danny's. 

He can't hold back the monumental sigh that escapes his lips when it's done. He's signed the contract and it disentangles him and Danny from any severe responsibilities. Other than that, it saves both from financial harm. They almost broke even, hardly any loss unless the one that just has happened.

Lou strolls by and joins them. "What's up, fellas?" 

Steve's fingers clamp his knees. He sighs again and blurts. "What's up? I'll tell you what's up." He feels off and leans against the counter, supporting his head with his hand. He can't watch Lou or Kamekona, because he is attacked by images which are already memories. Steve remembers how he ate lunch with Danny right here at the bar. The restaurant was a terrible construction site for far too long, but it was their shared dream. The whole idea was stressful but so precious for a long time. It hosted their future. It had been a crazy adventure. Sadness washes over his heart. Where does this come from?

And there it hits him, hard and full-on, a punch to his chest and for a short moment, Steve's heart stops briefly only to rattle on as if out of rhythm. "Danny," he can't stop sighing. What's wrong with him? He can't keep his leg from bouncing either. Steve falls apart, sitting there on the bar stool, closely observed by Lou and Kamekona. He forces the words out although his voice feels rough in his throat. "Danny and I have now officially signed this restaurant in its entirety over to Kamekona, so – " Steve looks in Lou's dumbstruck face and he needs to go, _now_. He has to leave, if only for a few minutes, but he needs to be alone and he needs – he needs…Danny. Steve's desire to hear Danny's voice is overwhelming.

"Stop playing." Lou huffs and wipes Steve's words off like an annoying bug on his shoulder. "Look, I need to talk to you about something…" Lou just steamrolls over Steve as if he hasn't just informed him that Kamekona is the new Le Chef of their formal restaurant. Steve realizes a bit shocked that in his mind this restaurant is still his and Danny's and that's why he has to step outside and to breathe some fresh air. He forces the forming lump down his throat.

Steve stands up. "I ain't playing. I ain't playing." He hastily throws in and parries Lou's attempt to just keep talking, referring to him as one of the owners of the restaurant. Steve doesn't wait. He steps past Lou. "You don't talk to me anymore." He slows even his speech to get his point across. He resembles Danny with his hands moving avidly in the air. "You now talk," he makes a grand gesture waving at Kamekona, "to this man. Good night." Steve pats Lou's shoulder not waiting for his answer.

Nobody watches him when he sneaks outside to find a quiet place. Steve shakes. He fishes his phone from the back pocket of his pants. He sets his jaw and waits about ten seconds before he speed-dials Danny's number. It's late at the Williams' home. Danny is five hours ahead, but Steve needs to hear his voice. He doesn't realize how uncommon he acts. Danny had phoned him this morning. He safely arrived at his parent's place after a long, uneventful flight. They'd only talked for about five minutes because Steve and his team have been in the middle of an investigation. It hasn't been nearly enough to stop his need to feel Danny close.

It only rings once before Danny's low, rough voice pours into his ear. "Steve? Babe? You okay? What's up? Aren't you eating? Why are you calling? Something up? Babe?" Danny's words slur a bit, but he fires his questions at Steve like a tennis ball shooting device on a training range.

"Danny, uhm, sorry. Did I wake you? I'm sorry. I'll call tomorrow, okay? It's nothing. I just felt like, uh, like hearing your voice?" Steve ruffles his hair and feels dumb. There's a beat of silence at the other end and Steve's curses inwardly.

"Steve, what's up?" Danny's voice changes dramatically. "Don't you dare to hang up on me," Danny orders fiercely only to shout something into the other direction and Steve hears laughter and music in the background.

"Are you still celebrating? I thought you might watch some TV or have fallen asleep on the couch after the feast." Steve could bite his tongue. He has no explanation for his knee-jerk reaction to call Danny. He told Danny that he had this, that it would be okay if he signed the contract without him.

"I won't find sleep tonight, babe, and definitely not now after you've called me with this unfamiliar tone in your voice. I'm already worried sick of the 'why'. Wait a second, babe. I always forget what a loud, chaotic family I have. I'm stranded on the planet of the apes. I'm not used to this pandemonium anymore. Jesus." Danny shouts again to answer someone's question. He turns the speaker down to muffle the impact. "Sorry, Steve, but Eric and Bridget have mixed a mean eggnog and I'm sure there is more Vodka in it than eggs or anything else. We're all way past tipsy. I've had way too many shots in too big glasses. It's not funny when your mother can't stop singing and everyone tells awful jokes that weren't even good when I was a child."

Steve hears a few doors opening and closing and the noise diminishes into a purr into the background.

"Danny, come on. I'm sorry I interrupted your cheerful time. I'll call tomorrow. Nothing is wrong with me. Everything's just fine. I'm fine." Steve tries again to take the edge off. "I didn't mean to worry you." Steve sits down on one of the long tables outside on the small terrace in front of the restaurant.

"You can't hide behind 'I'm fine', Steve, not this time. Don't do that. You'll talk to me right this second. What's up? Huh? I'm in a hideout. I think it's my mom's walk-in closet, but it's quiet and I'm here for you because that's why you've called me at – wait…" Danny pauses for a moment and his voice is back under one second, "it's past one o'clock in the morning at my place, babe. What's going on?" Danny asks calmly but Steve knows he has put Danny on edge, stirring fear and insecurity to life.

"Hey, come on, Danny. It's nothing, really – " Steve manages a small laugh and is about to distract Danny with some funny sidekick note of their football game. He already inhales, sensing the words on his tongue. Steve wants to change the mood into casual small talk.

"Darling, please – don't do that." Danny pauses, his voice warm and serious, and Steve's heart stops. "Please, talk to me." Danny's softly whispered words are too much. It's a humble plea to Steve to let him in, to open up and to talk about what's bothering him.

Steve swallows his shaky sigh and inhales deeply. His voice is loaded with emotions and he shakes his head because he feels so silly. "You – " Danny's term of endearment goes straight to Steve's heart. "Darling? Isn't this a bit too much?" Luckily, Danny can't see his watery, wobbly smile. Steve would be totally embarrassed if Danny would witness his mood. He's thrown off kilter about this emotional turmoil. He clenches his fist, relaxes all fingers to repeat the clenching. Steve stares like hypnotized at his straining muscles and the play of his fingers.

"Steve, don't play any games. Not after what happened at the airport. I kissed you and you kissed me back, and _yes_ , Darling. It feels insanely great to call you that because I love you. I'm madly in love with you and don't start to discuss terms of endearment with me, you big putz. You sound hurt and I want to know why." Danny sounds agitated, and Steve shuts his eyes and his focus is entirely on Danny's voice in his ear. He even presses the phone closer to get every shade in Danny's mood. "Can you – for once, babe, _please_ , just for once – can you tell me what's up?" Danny begs.

Steve clears his throat. He drums with his fist lightly onto his thigh. "I signed the papers. Kamekona owns our restaurant."

"Steve – I'm sorry you had to do this alone, but I don't understand. I thought you're okay with this? We're both relieved to end it this way. We want to be cops and we're not even broke. We're lucky. That's what we both agreed on, didn't we? We're out. We're free again. Are you having second thoughts now?" Danny has never talked to him like this. So, understanding, so tender and – Steve can't hold it together anymore. The words are out before he could second-guess his intentions.

"We gave our baby away." There, he's said it. Steve swallows hard. He's almost lost the control over his words. He flushes deep red the moment the words hang in the air. "That – " Steve's breath catches, "that sounded totally wrong and dopey."

"Darling," Danny whispers so gently that it kills Steve softly and he knows Danny understands. He presses the heel of his hand angrily into the socket of one eye. _Goddamnit_. 

Danny waits. Steve only hears his breathing and it's this calm, all-knowing patience that pushes Steve over the edge and the words flow out of his mouth.

"We've built up everything from scratch, Danny, and I didn't expect that signing this contract would screw with me in this way. It's us, Danny. The restaurant is – _was_ us, and it still feels as if it belongs to us. It was our mind-baby and I don't want to let go yet. I – shit, Danno." Steve ducks his head but he knows Danny listens with all his heart and this comfort is the reason why Steve finds all the words. "We had great times and we had hard fights, but it was a satisfying feeling to build something with you. We had a project, we were so close. We investigated in our future 'us' as restauranteurs. I don't regret our decision, Danny. It was the right call. I want to be a cop, but still… sorry, I'm not making much sense." Steve stops and bites his lower lip.

"I'm listening, babe. Go on, I'm here. I want to hear everything." Danny's gentle support gave Steve the strength to finish what he's started.

"It feels like I've lost a part of you and – " Steve stands up to walk around. He tilts his head back and forces himself to breathe calmly. He can't have an emotional freak-out about something he hadn't even been aware of during the whole fucking time when they were the owner of Steve's. " – I lost something with you, from you, and I'm scared that I will never get it back. I don't know if we'll ever get a second chance to have such a project again. I miss it. I'm going to miss the time with you. This… closeness. I would have wanted you here for the handover. It's – I hate it. I hate to just hand it over." Steve pushes his hand into his front pocket and wills himself into a rational mind-state. 

"Steve, babe, listen closely now. You haven't lost anything from me. I'm here and I love you with all my heart. We are going to build a life together. Yes, the restaurant was our mind-baby, but I can promise you now that there will be new mind-babies, lots of fresh, new projects and plans, okay? We're a couple now. You're aware of that, aren't you, babe? I want everything with you, Steve because you're it for me. I want the whole nine yards and then some more. So, you better prepare yourself, because I'm back in three days and we will end the era of our first and last restaurant with a celebratory dinner a fancy place. We both need some closure. Would you like that? Would that help?" Danny's voice wraps Steve in a blanket of comfort and stability and this strong, unique love.

"I love you, Danno. God, do you have any idea how much I love you?" Steve is too overwhelmed to reply in any other way. "I want the whole nine yards, too, babe. I want everything with you." 

"Good to know." Danny's voice sounds wet and Steve smiles widely at the fact that they get more romantic the greyer their hair grows.

Steve feels okay again. Everything will be fine. "Go back to your family, Danny. Don't get too drunk, and don't let Eric mix eggnog anymore for the rest of all the Thanksgiving to come." Steve grins. "Thank you, babe."

"I love you, Steve and you can thank me properly when I'm back home."

"I will." Steve breath hitches out of a totally different reason.

"Hang up, Darling."

"You go first." Steve teases.

"On a count on three." Danny pushes.

"Okay, on your count."

"One," Danny starts.

"Love you," Steve whispers.

"Two – love you, too, babe." Danny chuckles.

"We're sappy old morons, you know that, right?" Steve murmurs while he shakes his head. 

"I don't care, and I'll text you, Darling. Three."

Steve closes his eyes and faintly hears a smacking sound of a kiss. Danny has kissed his phone to send this token of love through the air before he hangs up. Steve cuts the connection and crosses his arms over his chest. He feels hungry on a non-physical level and insanely excited with this unknown happiness that rushes through his veins. The unfurling desire penetrates his body like heavy thunder. The yearning for Danny almost brings him to his knees.

The door opens behind him releasing a cloud of chatter before it shuts close again. Steve turns to see Mary walking towards him. She smiles fondly and only talks after she has circled an arm around his waist. "He loves you, too, does he?" 

"I – why do you ask? Why do you even know?" Steve dips his eyes to hide his ridiculous happy smile.

"I watched you for a couple of moments. I've never seen such a sweet expression on your face. You were flirting, and I assume it has to do with Danny. Admit it, Steve, I was right, because you're more than surf buddies now." Mary leans her head against Steve's shoulder and he pulls her into a tight hug. "You and Danny always have had this special glow when you looked at each other." Mary snorts a soft laugh. "Did your cookies do the trick?"

Steve shifts on his feet and wraps both his arms around Mary's slender shape. "Yeah, they did, and you're right Mar. We're more than surf buddies. You're very observant." Steve is thankful to have Mary by his side tonight. "Thank you for helping me. This… it means a lot. Thank you." Steve just holds her for a moment. Mary murmurs something into his side and both get quiet and watch the peaceful Hawaiian night for a couple of minutes. "Have you eaten yet?" He kisses her head.

"Yes, I had a loaded plate full of delicious food. Kamekona can cook. Joanie enjoys all the attention. She sits on Lou's lap. He talks funny stuff, but he has the hang of making a toddler fall asleep in no time." Mary tugs him into the direction of the entrance. "Come on, Stevie, let's go inside and let's be joyful with the crowd. They're starting to ask what took you so long." 

"Okay, right. Let's go back inside. Hey Mar, would you mind heading out a bit earlier tonight? I know you're visiting again on Christmas, but I haven't really spent time with you today. Let's have one more beer at the beach before we go to sleep. Just the two of us with JoJo. I'd like to hear more about Aunt Deb's house, and maybe we can talk a little bit about Aunt Deb, too? It's Thanksgiving and I miss her. We'll wrap JoJo in a warm blanket, and she can sleep in my arms. What do you say?" Steve holds the door open and maintains Mary's sparkling, teasing eyes.

"I love that, Stevie. My flight is tomorrow at noon. I'm sorry, we're staying over only for a few days, but we'll be back soon." 

"Okay, great." Steve follows Mary willingly. He lets her drag him along by taking his hand. 

Danny's first text arrives when Steve starts to eat. He enjoys all the company and slowly gets comfortable to answer all the questions about the handover of the restaurant. It only stings a little bit. Steve's cell vibrates in his pocket. He checks the ID and forces his grin back. He knows he looks like a fool in love with dreamy eyes and this lopsided smile that he can't hide, but everybody is in a cheerful mood. Steve doesn't stand out with his rosy cheeks and his sparkling eyes. He feels the heat and the closeness through his cell although Danny is miles away. Yes, it might be silly and dorky, but Danny is just there, right by his side, and he sends more texts throughout the evening. Steve enjoys the soft purr from his phone in his pants and his heartbeat skips a beat every single time.

Steve won't read any of Danny's texts at the table for the simple reason that Danny is slightly drunk. They are head over heels in love with each other, and the texts will be the proverbial spark to the puddle of gasoline. Steve knows from the few lines he has sneaked a peek at that Danny's words are one hell of an innuendo: totally seductive and hot with the single goal to mess Steve up. He'll read Danny's precious, glorious dirty words only when he's in bed – alone and naked. Steve doesn't want to control his facial expressions or the soft thrust of his hips when he texts Danny back and maybe he'd call him… Steve shifts on his chair.

Luckily, Adam stands and asks Steve if he wants a second helping of the turkey. Steve wills his thoughts in another direction. The soft bulge behind his zipper stays hidden under the tablecloth. 

Danny makes sure Steve feels him close with the way new texts arrive. Danny is on the mainland, but at the same time right by Steve's side where he has been from the moment they've met. That's where Danny belongs, right by his side. Steve chats animatedly with everyone but already starts to count down the hours when he finally can drive to the airport to pick Danny up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://cowandcalf.tumblr.com/)


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